In the House of Secrets
by decayingcodex
Summary: AU Everyone copes with the trauma they've lived through, and not everyone's coping strategies are healthy. Based on Otep's song "House of Secrets." Warning: Extensive drugs and alcohol, abuse, not really a feel-good story.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own FFXIII nor am I making a profit from this story. Let me know what you think. Honestly, I'm mildly repulsed by it, but I had to get it out of my head.

Chapter 1: We're all Alone in the City

A pink-haired woman crossed the empty street in the pouring rain, close to tears beneath her stoic expression. The memories were too close tonight, it was too much. She had to get out, to get away. She threw open the door to her apartment building and took the stairs two at a time to the third floor. Her door stood at the end of the hall like a golden bastion of safety. Thirteen steps brought her to it, her key in hand. A quick thrust and a turn and it was open, and she darted into the shithole apartment, slamming the door behind her.

A sob escaped her as she thumbed the deadbolt, and safety closed around her. Safety from the world, anyway… Her memories were still there, creeping. Taunting, waiting to lunge upon her, to shred her with claws, to tear her apart with gnashing teeth… She pressed her hands to her temples and crouched down, breathing unsteadily. Eventually her breathing settled, and she rose on shaky legs. She then moved to the kitchenette in the drafty studio apartment.

'I'm free. I made it.' Lightning reminded herself, on the edge of panic. Pulling a baggie from her pocket and tossing it onto the counter, she moved to her bathroom and took a piss, not daring to close the door. Then she nearly ran to her room and returned to the kitchen, syringe and spoon in hand. She took up the baggie in shaking hands and began to cook her score and load the syringe.

She stood, unnerved, feeling the edges of her sanity fraying as she remembered. Lightning remembered viridian eyes in a tanned female face peering out at her between the bars of a cage, and another, younger face, this one a male with silver hair. She could remember his screams, his sobs, and then the broken stare he had emitted after he had been broken… She shuddered, and then set down the needle. She went back to the bathroom and puked, then flushed the vomit. After rinsing her mouth, she peered into the mirror.

Her pale eyes stared back at her, lifeless, haunted. Her once beautiful pink hair hung in unclean clumps framing her face. Her body was thin, worn ragged. Drug addict thin, wasn't that what they said about the rockstars and junkies? But, she was no rockstar, just a junkie running from her past. From what had been done to her, from what she had done. She sighed, then went to the kitchen, collected her 'medicine,' and headed to her bedroom. She tightened the length of rubber tubing over her arm and pressed the needle to her skin, aiming for the well-tracked vein.

She sighed and thought, 'I could get high or get by with fifty, yeah… And I, I, I, don't feel pretty… Today.' She pushed the heroin into her vein.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The House of Secrets

Lightning had once been a small girl named Claire, and she had had a family once. Parents. A baby sister. A home. She remembered the house, vaguely. It was white, or grey. Of her sister, she just remembered an adorable bundled topped with the same pink hair that she had always had, which in turn was the same hair their mother had. Her father had been tall, with dark brown hair and a goatee. That was all that she could remember of her life before she had been taken.

At the age of six she had been snatched, and her world was gone. She never knew if her parents looked for her, if she appeared on the news or on milk cartons… All she knew was that after she was taken, she lived in a locked cage in a locked room full of locked cages. Suddenly, Claire had been thrust into a nightmarish realm of shouting, crying, beatings… And secrets.

At first, all she did was cry, and then as they fed and watered her every day she began to plead. For months she heard no human voices, and suddenly one day they dragged a tanned, vicious girl in and left her in the cage next to Claire's. The girl shouted herself hoarse, calling her capturers the foulest of names, "motherfuckers" and "rat bastards." Then, she had fallen silent for three whole days.

Claire watched the girl with the fiery temperament, and finally she decided to ask her what her name was.

"Fang. And one of these days I'll go back home and bring the hunters, and we'll burn this fuckin' place down, and kill the kidnapping bastards." Claire liked her instantly.

Whenever the men would bring the food, Fang would rave at them, making fierce threats and trying to bite their hands. At first, anyway. The third time she did this they had brought a club and she spent the rest of the day in unconscious silence. Claire thought she was dead, until she awoke in the middle of the night to Fang's sobs.

"Fang?" Claire asked, her voice a tiny thing in the darkness.

"What, Claire?" Fang asked between sobs.

"It'll get better." Claire would regret these words for the rest of her life, because the only thing worse than a lie was a false hope, and she had offered her only friend both.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: LGFUAD

Fang clocked out and snatched the hour receipt from the printer, then took off her apron and threw it into her locker in the break room. She came back out to the bar and sought out her boss, a pretty brunette named Lebreau. Without speaking, she handed her the receipt. Lebreau took a clipboard from under the bar and jotted some numbers, then hit a button on the cash register and paid the bartender. Then she turned to make Fang her free drink for the shift, which was always a double-shot of bourbon and coke.

Fang nodded her thanks and swirled the drink with the stirring straw, then set it aside on one of the rubber mats where the empty glasses sat as they waited for a reload. She threw back the drink in three gulps and then put six gil on the bar. Lebreau returned and sighed, then handed Fang what was always her second drink: a shot of scotch, no chaser. Fang threw it back like it was nothing, then set three more gil on the bar. Lebreau already had her cheap light beer (can, never a bottle) waiting. Fang thanked her and began to look about the room.

Partly, Fang was checking her work, but mainly she was looking for someone who had eluded her for years. The pink-haired woman never seemed to show up. As far as Fang's work went, the empty tables were all spotless, and nowhere was there any rubbish. Fang turned back to the bar at the insistence of a tap on her shoulder.

"You shouldn't drink so hard, dear." Lebreau said. Fang groaned inwardly. This conversation was a sort of ritual for the two women.

"I've told you, Lebreau, I have things to forget. If I go to bed sober, the nightmares will make me crazy. Er. Crazier. I'll be ok, it's only a couple blocks to my apartment." Lebreau sighed.

"Yes, Fang… But half of the drinkers in here just left. I'm glad you bring back half your paycheck, but I can't have you harassing the bar patrons and starting fights. Don't make me call the police on you again, love." Fang flinched. Lebreau had never been this direct.

"I'll be good. Actually, how about you get me a bottle of Lady Bligh and I'll go drink at home?"

"No. I need you alive for your shift tomorrow." Lebreau said sternly. Fang flashed her boss and closest friend a smile and slammed her beer, then set the empty can on the rubber mat next to the drink glass and the shotglass and the stirring straw. Lebreau was already there with another beer and a shot of brown fluid. Fang looked at her questioningly and Lebreau nodded down the bar. Fang looked, and a man waved at her, smiling. Fang waved with a fake half-smile before turning back to Lebreau and rolling her eyes. She slammed the drink regardless, and fished out the gil for the beer. _Hm… Rum._ Then she took the beer in hand and walked down to make this man's acquaintance.

"Thanks for the drink, guy." Fang said, putting out her hand. "Name's Fang."

"Sazh. And you're welcome. Looked like you could use it." The dark skinned man said as he shook her outstretched hand. A little yellow bird popped out of his afro.

"How cute!" Fang yelled. "My roommate would love to make your chocobo's acquaintance." Sazh chuckled and said,

"Can't get rid of the little prick. He was a present from my son, just before…" Sazh's voice trailed off and his eyes suddenly took on a haunted look. "I-I've got to go. Hey Lebreau!" Lebreau moved down the bar and set her rag down.

"Whatcha need, sugah?" Lebreau asked, leaning on the bar flirtily.

"Get Fang here three more of those shots, I've got to head. I'll pay up my tab."

"Gotcha." Lebreau said, uncertainly, and then ran the man's debit card as she poured the shots. She returned with the card and two receipts and one of the shots. Fang slammed it and Sazh signed the business's copy, then pocketed the card and his own receipt and left, staggering slightly. Lebreau was back in a flash and pushed one of the shots across the bar. "I'm taking this one. You don't need it. You wanna fuck yourself up so bad, buy your own." Fang shrugged and they clinked their shotglasses. After throwing back the shot, Fang didn't feel like she needed anymore. But, she bought a half-pint of cheap rum and bid her boss goodnight. The rum was gone before she had walked a block. She dropped the bottle, and the little brown bag it had come in, in a dark alley and continued on.

She made it to her apartment and grabbed a beer from the fridge. Vanille, her roommate, was seated on the couch with her feet on the coffee table, a bottle of nail polish next to her as she coated her toenails. The redhead's brow was furrowed in concentration, her tongue poking out of her lips just slightly.

"Hey, Van. What's shakin'?" Vanille finished the toe she was on before looking up at her friend.

"Just getting ready for the weekend. How'd work go?"

"Eh, it was work. Hey, I've only got four more beers, can we go to the gas station?"

"What, you need me to buy?"

"Nope. Jus' drive, love."

"Do you really need any more? You're already slurring." Vanille commented as she bent to finish her toenails.

"Van…" Fang got down on her knees next to the coffee table. "You know I have nightmares, love. This is the easiest way to stop 'em."

Vanille's breath hitched. Of course she knew, she had met Fang at the orphanage. Fang had screamed through the night, every night. She had also been starved and had bruises and burns head to toe.

"Yeah, we can. Just let me finish up here. Can we do vodka? I'll throw in if I get some."

"Fine by me." Fang said, leaping up from the floor, then staggering back down to one knee. "Fuck. I started on bourbon scotch and beer, and then this motherfucker bought me some rum… Then I drank more rum. Tomorrow's gonna be great." Fang rolled her eyes as she took to her feet again. Vanille shook her head as she screwed the cap down on her nail polish.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Hooks and Splinters

Claire spent four years rotting in that cage, one meal and one cup of warm water a day, before it all got worse. Boredom was the killer then, as she, a child, had no toys or books. Nothing to fill the time. Fang was two years older than Claire, and so she was dragged out two years before she was. When they took her the first time, she screamed and cursed them, calling them 'faggots' and 'whoremongers.' Hours later the fiery Pulsian girl was returned and sobbed herself to sleep. Claire was terrified for the girl, and for herself. Day by day, the light in Fang's eyes began to fade. One day, Claire got up the courage to ask the other girl where they took her, and Fang replied venomously,

"Hell. They take me to Hell." Then she leaned back against the bars of her cage and tears poured down her face, in utter silence. Claire never asked her again. Two years later, though, she found out. And, in her opinion, hell had nothing on this place.

They came for Claire, and dragged her out of the room she had taken to thinking of as 'the stable,' and one of the two men backhanded her for resisting. Claire was able to cast a last fearful glance back at Fang, and saw the girl crouched in the cage, head lowered. Dragging her from the room, they lead her up some stairs and down some hallways. She would come to memorize and dread this route.

She was pulled into a room where a man sat on a cot, puffing on a cigar. He was fat, and bald. He cast a hungry look at her, and then he nodded to the men that had brought her. She was stripped of the clothes that she had been wearing, clothes that had long since shredded and frayed into rags. The man disrobed himself, and motioned for her to come closer. She hesitated, and recieved a smack upside the back of her head.

He had forced himself upon her then, beating her when she tried to get away, and using her in horrendous ways. At ten, she began the terrible routine that Fang had endured these past two years. The worst part was, she didn't understand. She didn't understand the man's grunting, or the filthy feeling that rose up in her torso like vomit. She didn't understand the sticky white stuff dripping out of her at the end. She didn't understand anything but the pain. That she understood, full well.

When it was finished, she was given back her rags. And then she was taken back to her cage, which took on a sudden, sick measure of safety. She, like Fang before her, wept herself to sleep, bruised and bloody. The next day she awoke slick with sweat from the nightmares she endured. She sat up and looked over at Fang, who was staring at her, a strange look in her eye. Pity? Guilt? Claire would wonder about this all day, even as they were both collected and dragged down that same hallway, but to seperate rooms, and to new 'clients,' as she heard them called.

By the end of the week, Claire was unbelievably sore, and had cried all of her tears out. Fang had been surprisingly silent, which was very unlike her. Fang was an outspoken girl, and had an uncanny ability to find humor in almost nothing at all. Claire was suffering, though, and Fang had no words to make it better. She couldn't even hold her friend, because they were in seperate cages.

The weeks turned into months, and Claire began to catalogue differences in the clients. Some were almost gentle, and some hurt her for no reason. She came back from one day with bruises forming all over her face and chest. Fang raged inside her cage, beating her own head against the bars and growling wordlessly.

"Fang..." Claire started.

"No!" Fang shouted. "You don't deserve this! You are a child, taken from her family, suffering rape and abuse every fucking day!" She lapsed again into a brooding silence.

"You don't deserve this either... No one does." Claire said in a small voice.

"Maybe." Fang snorted, flipping her wild hair over her shoulder. "But I'm an orphan. This cage is inside... No rain, no snow. I don't have to use myself as bait for Gorgonopsids, I don't have to fight tooth and nail for a meal. I might have traded what they want for this cage. But your family... I had something of a family. Another orphan, a little girl. She might die without me. You might die in here... Fuck, I might. But that doesn't mean anything to me. You and Vanille do, and I can't do anything! Not a fucking thing."

Claire didn't know what to say. She promised herself that evening that she would become more stoic. They could take what they wanted from her, but never again would they affect Fang like this using her. Fang was her only friend, and Claire would, even then, do anything for her. Not that she was able to do much, but she wouldn't add to the other girl's torture.

Every day dragged by, and Claire tried to smile. For Fang. They would talk every night until one of them fell asleep. Fang talked about Gran Pulse, and how rough it was. Every person there fought to survive. There was no help for orphans, and gangs of bullies were rampant. That's why Fang was so strong. She had defended Vanille since she found her cowering in an alley.

Claire would talk about their home in Bodhum, and her baby sister. Fang hung on every word, peering into the other girl's former life like pages in a book. Her father was a Guardian Corps peace officer, and Claire would recount his exaggerated tales of his days to Fang. Her mother was a nurse, which was why she's never been to a hospital or doctor. Fang had also never been to a hospital, but there was only one in the entirety of Gran Pulse. Most continued to give birth at home.

The two girls continued to survive, trying to keep each other alive. The sexual torture they endured never went away, but with each other to talk to, it seemed to become more... manageable.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: I realize that this is super short, but this chapter as a whole disgusts me. I do not condone rape or abuse, of anyone let alone kids.

Chapter 5: Shattered Pieces

A few months later, a boy was brought to the room of cages, a boy with silver hair. He told them that his name was Hope, and he was not given the years that Claire and Fang had been given: They took him there in 'the stable' on his second day, and he screamed. And screamed. And screamed some more, before being tossed back into his cage. He had cried for hours, and who could blame him? He could do nothing but lay on his side.

Fang and Claire tried weakly to console the boy, but to no avail. Silence took him, and he never said a word again, nor did he sob, nor cry. Silence was his defense, and it failed him completely. Fang tried to joke with the boy, even tried singing to him. He never acknowledged her, but when she sang to him, Claire could see the ghost of a smile on his face as he let her lull him to sleep.

The two girls watched his rape, noting how rough they were with him. More often than not, he returned to his cage with blood seeping into his jean shorts. He lasted just shy of a month before he bled out from his rectum.

The night they had dragged his corpse away, Fang had met Claire's eyes.

"They'll pay for that. And they'll wish they'd fucking killed us too. I don't know how, yet. But I'll get us out of here. I promise." Claire shivered at the venom in Fang's voice, but said nothing. The night passed in silence.

Over the following days, Fang seemed to withdraw into herself, her watchful eyes roaming over everything, hate and malice dripping into every action she committed. She was beaten one day for trying to rip out a client's throat with her teeth. Claire gave her the silence she wanted, and eventually she began to talk again. However, she seemed distracted, and awash with that bitter rage that never seemed to go away. Claire found she couldn't blame her.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Rise, Rebel, Resist

Fang found a sliver of metal. Claire never saw where she got it, but every night for months she heard the scraping, and the older girl whispering to herself. One night, Claire was just about to ask about it when the scraping suddenly stopped. Fang turned to the younger girl and held out the blade, through the bars of her cage, she had been sharpening. Claire took it.

"The next time they let us out, I'm going to need you to stab those fucking bastards. Go for the throat, and don't let up until they're dead. I'll distract them, you'll know it when I do it." The tanned girl said with a glint in her eyes.

"Are you sure about this?" Claire asked, testing the blade on her thumb. It was plenty sharp.

"I am. One of them has a gun, I've seen it. We're going to take it and kill every single person in this godforsaken place. Then… We'll leave. Together. Now get some sleep, and don't get caught with that until you've had a chance to use it."

"What if we get caught? Or fail somehow?"

"Then, we'll probably die. If that happens, know that you're my best and only friend. Do you remember what you told me all those years ago?"

"Yes…" Of course she did. She had regretted it this whole time.

"Tomorrow… Tomorrow it'll get better."

Claire didn't sleep a wink. She spent long hours imagining the blade sinking home into a man's throat. She imagined the sunlight, as she remembered it. She imagined freedom. She tried not to think of failure, or what would happen to if they failed. Finally, the hour came, and the two men entered the room.

They each opened a cage and pulled the girls out by their arms. Claire had the makeshift blade held between her thigh and right palm, and terror gripped her. Suddenly, Fang wrenched herself around and slammed a knee into her captor's groin. Claire felt the grip on her arm loosen and she pulled free and took the blade in her hand, then spun out of the man's grip and plunged the blade into his neck. A spurt of blood covered everyone in the room, and Claire plunged the blade in again, on the other side of his Adam's apple. She pulled out the blade and looked over to Fang.

Fang headbutted the man that she had attacked. Claire started to move toward him and everything felt like it was in slow motion. The man pulled a black pistol from his waistband, and Fang grabbed and pushed it above her head. Claire saw in this moment that there was no clear shot at the man's throat, and instead jumped and slammed the makeshift blade into the man's temple. She felt the breaking of thin bone, and then the soft matter of the man's brain spreading as the blade sank in.

The man looked around as he staggered back, then hacked up a great deal of blood and fell to the ground. He never got back up. Fang took the gun by the barrel and held it out to her friend. Claire took it, shaking with the adrenaline in her veins. Fang then plucked the blade from the man's skull and wiped it on his shirt.

"Good job, love. I'll go kill the men in the rooms they always take us to… You head the other way and kill anyone you see."

"No! Come with me. Let's not split up." Claire pleaded, visibly sagging.

"It'll be ok. Besides, I want to go to the basement and fuck with anything that will explode. You need to go before that happens."

"Fang no! Don't leave me…" Claire said, tears flooding into her eyes. The tanned girl drew the pale girl close and kissed her cheek.

"It'll be ok. It'll get better, remember? That starts now. Now get the fuck out of here. I'll see you again… I promise." Fang said, before running off down the hall. Claire took a deep breath to steady herself, and set out going the opposite way.

Claire came to a corner and peeked out around it. A bored man in black sat in a folding chair, with a gun on his hip. She pulled up the gun and sighted in on the man, then held her breath and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Pulling back around the corner she let out her breath and then checked the gun. She found a circular button near the trigger, and pressed it. She then looked on the other side to see a similar button now sticking out of that side, with a red circle on it. 'Red for fire. Got it.' She turned the corner and sighted in the man again, then pulled the trigger. The gun was incredibly loud, especially in the enclosed hallway, and when the bullet took him in the neck it splattered a bunch of gore on the wall behind him.

She continued to move down the hall, stopping only long enough to take the man's gun. Hearing a man scream from deeper in the building, Claire began to run. Two more men died by her hand before she found the exit, and she stepped out into blinding morning sunlight. There was a parking lot, with four cars in it. She checked them all. Locked. She sighed, and went and stood by the door, waiting for Fang. However, Fang never came. Even when the explosion ripped through the center of the mansion, Fang never came out the door. Claire, knowing that explosions start fires and fires bring firefighters, decided it was time to leave. She began the long trek through the nearby forest, where she dropped the guns. She didn't need them anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Living Dead Girl

Lightning awoke the next day, unsteady and shaking. She got up, and took her ragged blanket with her to make the coffee and use the toilet. Then she cooked some more of her heroin and shot up, just enough to still the shakes. She threw the blanket back onto her bed, which was just a ragged mattress on the floor in her room. Then she showered and dressed, and then sat at her table and drank her coffee. She grimaced; like she would if it had been liquor- she always made overly strong coffee. One of the perks of living alone, she reflected as she poured another mug, was that no one else drank the coffee, and thus never bitched about it.

She hated her life, and she hated her fear of ending it. So, she persisted, addicted to heroin and afraid of any and all human contact. Working ten hours a week at a K-Mart kept her in this shithole apartment, and with just enough heroin to keep her from breaking down and facing her past. She was a woman on the run. Who could blame her?

She finished her coffee and left the building, walking the street to find… Well, she didn't know what she was trying to find. Just that it was elusive.

It was a hot summer day, yet Lightning wore a thin, pink sweater with three-quarter sleeves. She was self-conscious about her track marks. To counter-act the heat she knew she was holding in, she wore a short denim skirt above a cheap pair of flip-flops.

She passed a group of men unloading a truck. They were huffing as they hefted large wooden crates into an empty store. Walking past, she heard a whistle, and then laughs followed by a deep voice exclaiming that he wanted something with a little meat on its bones. She quickened her pace until she turned the corner. 'Bastards.' She thought to herself. The streets were moderately busy, and she found her eyes downcast as she avoided every set of eyes. People asked questions, and that was a whole can of worms to be avoided.

It was midafternoon when she stopped to sit on a bench outside of a bar named The Hole. She was sleepy, and it was warm on the bench, as the sun happened to be caressing the wood of said bench. The Hole didn't seem to be terribly busy this time of day, but Claire had a feeling that that would change as soon as the sun set.

"Claire?" Lightning hadn't heard her birth name in years, since she had left the House of Secrets in a torrent of blood and flame. She didn't even realize that the speaker was talking to her until she felt her shoulder get shaken by a warm hand. Her eyes popped up and peered into a pair of haunted green eyes in a familiar tanned face framed by wild hair.

"Fang?" Lightning stood, uncertain. The tanned woman took a drag off of her cigarette, then nodded. Lightning took a moment to look her old friend over. She wore blue jeans over black shoes and a black tank top.

"Gods, girl. You look like hell. You smoke?" Lightning shrugged, then mumbled,

"Sometimes. I thought... I thought you hadn't made it." Fang laughed as she held out her open pack of Newport reds.

"Pleasant surprise? Go ahead, love." Fang said, nodded at the pack of smokes. "Got a light here somewhere, too. " She searched her pockets, and produced a black Bic with the safety removed. Lightning thanked her and put the smoke between her lips, then tried to still her shaking hands enough to light it. Fang watched for a few seconds before taking back the lighter and sparking the cigarette for her. She pocketed her light and Lightning mumbled her thanks again.

"Wait here. I'll be back." Fang threw her cigarette to the side as she pushed into the bar. Wild music came out for the few seconds the door was open. Lightning remained standing by the bench, alarmed. Fang was the last person she had expected to see. Like, ever. Moments later Fang returned and lit up another cigarette. "You got anything to do today? My boss wants to meet you. I'll buy you a beer, too, if you want."

"M-me? Why?"

"Because she adores me. And because I owe you so much. And because I don't want to lose you... again." Fang said, looking straight into Lightning's eyes.

"I didn't… Owe me? What makes you-"

"Shh, we'll talk inside, love. Trust me." The two shared a quiet moment in the sun, looking over each other. Fang pulled a cheap pair of shades from the top of her head and nestled them over her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm very hungover. I had a long night. Mixing all kinds of stupid shit. Not one of my better plans."

Lightning smiled. Fang didn't seem to have changed too much, as she was still outspoken and overly honest. She was taller and well fed now. Lightning had a sudden urge to cling to the girl and sob into her chest. To scream, even. Instead, she said:

"I'm glad to see you're ok. Or, well... As ok as we could be." Lightning looked down, suddenly fascinated at the ground. She didn't notice Fang step closer.

"Hey, we're as ok as we let ourselves be. That's why I went to talk to my boss. You are going to be ok. I promise." She set her hand on Lightning's left wrist. Lightning took a drag off of the bummed smoke and looked at the pulsian. The urge to clutch her came again, and again she crushed it within her. Rather, she dropped her eyes to the ground and puffed on the smoke, burning it down to the filter before she cast it away.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Everything Ends

Lightning followed Fang into the bar, and immediately started to freak out. There were three guys at the bar, and she could see a guy in the kitchen doing dishes. There was an attractive brunette at the open cash register, counting the gil.

"Lebreau, here she is!" Fang called out as they drew near. "This is Cl-"

"Lightning." Lightning interrupted the tanned woman, putting out an unsteady hand. Lebreau set the stack of bills back into the cash register and shook the hand offered to her.

"You're right, Fang. She doesn't look healthy at all. You hungry?" Lightning put her head down and mumbled,

"No thank you."

"Nonsense. You look like you haven't eaten in months. Go have a seat in one of those booths, I'll be over to talk to you in a bit. Fang, go tell Gadot we need a cheeseburger and fries." And with that Lebreau went back to counting the money. Fang nodded and patted Lightning's shoulder as she headed into the kitchen. Lightning walked slowly over to the row of booths along the wall and sat, ready to bolt immediately. However, Fang came and sat across from her and she relaxed.

"I thought you died when you didn't come back from the basement." Lightning said in a rush. Fang just laughed and stretched.

"I probably should have. I didn't have enough time to get out before the boiler blew. Shot me through a wall and knocked me out for a few. I hacked for weeks. I'm glad to see you made it. Lightning now, is it?"

"Yeah… I never did find my family, so it didn't seem right to keep the name they gave me." Concern suddenly clouded Fang's face and she took her friend's hand.

"May I?" The tanned woman asked, reaching for Lightning's sweater sleeve. Lightning had a moment of panic, but then it faded as she remembered who she was talking to. She nodded slightly, and Fang pulled up her sleeve. The track marks appeared, large as life and ugly as sin. Lightning looked away. Fang whistled and replaced her sleeve. "Goddammit. I shouldn't have fucking left you. Cl-, uh, I mean Lightning… I'm so sorry."

The two sat in an awkward silence until Lebreau appeared with the tray of food. She set it in front of the woman and sat down next to Fang, who moved over instantly.

"Go ahead and eat, honey." Lebreau said, sweetly. She looked over at Fang, who looked serious. Like, serious, serious. "You ok, chick?"

"Wha-? Yeah, yup. Just… Really, really hungover. Van wanted to drink vodka last night, and after she passed out I killed the bottle."

"Jesus, Fang. You're gonna drink yourself to death one of these days." Fang laughed and stretched.

"Maybe even tomorrow. I'm off, that means it'll be time to do a little day drinking!" Lebreau rolled her eyes and looked over to Lightning picking at her fries.

"It's ok, hon. I wouldn't poison you."

"It's not… It's not that, I'm just…" Lightning didn't want to end the sentence with 'a little high' but that was the truth.

"So, Fang wants me to give you a job. I happen to own a business and I can use the help, so that works out… But, sugar, I can't have you on the junk if you're gonna work here. I've already buried enough friends and employees. Is it heroin? I can get you methadone, but I'm gonna hafta set conditions."

"Such as?" Lightning said, sitting up straight at the mention of her drug of choice.

"You move in with Fang, for one. No drugs, for another. Don't get me wrong, drink all you want and smoke all of the weed you want- after work. I mean real drugs."

"Move in with me? What if Vanille doesn't-"

"Shut up Fang. Does Vanille know what you two went through?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"Then she would never turn her away." Fang thought about it and nodded. "Does that sound acceptable to you, darling?" Lightning looked at Fang.

"It's up to you, love." Lightning turned her gaze back to Lebreau and nodded.

"Fang, take the day off. Get her settled, and don't you dare drink until she's safely in your place. Go, finish your drugs, and if you ever buy any more we're done. I hate to be so stern, but Fang's told me what you lived through. That's enough trauma for one lifetime." Lebreau stood, and patted Lightning's arm. "It'll get better. Fang's been looking for you for years. So, I'll have Fang get you a to-go box for that, and I'll see you both here at 2 pm Thursday. Take good care of her, Fang."

As Lightning and Fang stepped out into the sun, Lightning observed that this day seemed… Prettier than any other ever had. Prettier than any day had a right to be, really. Fang put her arm around her long lost friend, and guided her down the street to where she and Vanille lived. Lightning smiled for the first time since… Well, in a very long time.

They got inside the apartment and Fang took Lightning's burger and stored it in the fridge. Lightning began to take a slow circuit of the living room, scoping out the knick knacks, the shelves of books and DVDs, and the girly magazines that littered the coffee table. Fang stretched and watched Lightning look around.

"This is it. Home. I hope you don't mind the couch… Vanille's room is over there, my room is over there, and the bathroom is in the middle." Fang said, gesturing at the hallway. "Would you like to get anything from your place? I'll go with you. Lebreau told me not to drink until you were settled, so… We should do that first. Drinking is… how I cope." Lightning met her eye after hearing this and understood. She strode over and wrapped her arms around Fang's waist and hugged the older woman.

"I just have some clothes and a blanket. Maybe some coffee mugs. It doesn't sound like I'll need my syringe." Lightning tried to end on a joke, but it really wasn't funny. Fang ruffled her hair and said,

"Well, lead the way, sunshine."

They walked across the city and into Lightning's shithole apartment building, up the flights of stairs and into the apartment itself. It was dingy and spartan in comparison to Fang and Vanille's place. Lightning held the door for Fang to enter, and they took a second, just looking around. This, of course, means Fang was looking around and Lightning was staring at the floor. With a sigh Lightning walked into the bedroom and threw her inadequate wardrobe into a backpack, and set the backpack in a clothes basket that she then filled with her sheets and blankets as she stripped the bed. Fang leaned against the doorframe, watching. "Need anything from the kitchen?"

"Um… Do you have coffee and filters? I assume you have a pot…" Fang laughed.

"Yes, we have all of that. And toiletries, and shampoo, and conditioner. All things that are good, ya know?" Lightning threw a pair of walking shoes and a pair of boots into the basket, then nodded.

"Then, I suppose we're probably done here." Lightning hefted the basket to the door and looked around again. Fang pointed at the counter across the room.

"Were you going to do that?" Lightning looked over at what she was pointing at. It was a burnt, bent spoon and a mostly empty baggie.

"I… I don't…" Fang laid a hand on her arm to stop her sputtering.

"It's ok. You don't need it. Let's just go." Lightning nodded, and then pulled open the door. Fang grabbed the basket.

"You don't have to-"

"It'll be fine, Light. Lead the way." She nodded again, and they left the apartment without locking it. Lightning pulled her key from her pocket and left it in the lock. They left.

An hour later Fang opened her first beer of the day, from a 30 pack of cheap cans that she bought on the way back home. Lightning had protested as Fang set the box in the basket and continued to carry everything, but Fang wouldn't relent. Fang offered Lightning a beer, and she accepted it before shyly asking if it was good. Fang snorted in response and took a hearty chug from her own beer. Lightning popped open the can and began to drink like Fang, before grimacing. Fang cracked up, then slammed the rest of her beer.

"Never had beer before?" Fang asked her.

"No… is it all this… awful?"

"Well, yeah. It's an acquired taste." Lightning looked over the can with an apprehensive look, and then took another sip.

"How does one acquire such a taste?" She asked, grimacing again. Fang hopped up as if awaiting this very question, and grabbed her empty can from the coffee table. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a deck of cards and five more beers.

"We are going to play a game. Would you like me to get you a bucket?"

"Fang- I don't… Know… What kind of game?" Fang smiled at this (mischievously) and pulled out her phone. After hitting a couple buttons and typing, she hit one finally button and set the phone down on the table.

"We'll start with Circle of Death. It's not as rough as Asshole, but we need at least three people for Asshole." And so began Lightning's first day at Fang and Vanille's place.


	9. Chapter 9

Filler chapter. Sorry.

Chapter 9:

Vanille awoke with a dull hangover to the sound of voices. Fang's loud laugh echoed throughout the apartment they shared, and caused Vanille to smile. She loved Fang, as Fang had almost always been there for her, excluding her few years in captivity. Vanille sat up and rubbed her forehead, then moved slowly across the room. She froze with her hand on her door handle as she heard a voice she didn't recognize. Frowning, she looked around her room, coated as it was with late afternoon shadows.

She had a sudden need to urinate, which went against her desire to stand in her room and eavesdrop. Fang did not frequently bring people home. Also, Fang was supposed to work. Vanille narrowed her eyes. 'Interesting…' she thought. In the end, the need to empty her bladder won out over her nosy desire to try and keep her wakeful state a secret. She sighed as she left the room.

Stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind her, Vanille peed and washed her hands, and then brushed her teeth. Then she walked into the living room, where she found two women with beer in hand, and cards spread face-down around a can. A few cards were stuck in the tab of the can. She waved at Fang and the unknown woman on the couch before she yawned and moved into the kitchen. She started the coffee maker and returned to the living room to watch Fang placing the three of Hearts under the tab while the slender pink-haired woman drank.

"Circle of Death, eh?" Vanille asked, leaning on the doorframe.

"Yup. Sunshine here asked me how one acquires a taste for beer, so I thought I'd show her. Oh! This is Vanille. Vanille, this is Claire, remember I told you about her? Well, she goes by Lightning now. Cool as shit name, if you ask me." Lightning looked up at Vanille, her gaze wavering under the influence of the alcohol.

"Hello Lightning. It's so good to meet you." Lightning smiled and put out her hand, and Vanille shook it. 'So thin…' Vanille thought.

"She's, uh… Lebreau gave her a job; she starts the day after tomorrow. But one of the conditions was that she had to move in with us." Vanille's eyes widened in surprise.

"Where's she going to sleep?"

"Well, for now the couch. We'll figure something out." Fang shrugged.

"Ok, well, cleaning day and Karaoke night stay the same." Vanille challenged.

"Of course, 'Nille. Now do you want to play Asshole?"

"Fang, I just woke up. Let a girl get some coffee and food in her, jeez."

Lightning drew a card. It was a nine.

"Rhyme!" Fang declared loudly. "Say a word, and then we go around the table rhyming with it."

"Oh, um… Can."

"Pan."

"Flan."

"Span." Vanille interjected, hoping to throw them off. She silently congratulated herself as the pair stopped and looked at her, their concentration shattered. "Ha! You both suck. Drink." Fang huffed but did as Vanille bid her. Lightning shrugged and did the same. Fang drew a card after Lightning placed hers under the tab. It was a queen.

"Ok. Now this is Question Master. It doesn't go under the tab until another queen is drawn. Big thing to remember is that if I ask you a question, you have to answer with a question. If not…"

"I drink?"

"Yup."

"Fang… I don't know if I like this game." Fang laughed and Vanille left the room, only to return with a mug of steaming coffee.

"Believe you me; it's not as bad as Fuck the Dealer."

"Fuck the dealer?"

"Yeah, that's a rough one. But, it's perfect for two players. Circle of death usually dissolves before two people are halfway through the deck. Asshole is best for four people, but three works too. You deal out the entire deck, so it's dumb with only two people." Vanille shivered, then said,

"Agreed. Remember that time-"

"Yes. I remember that time." Lightning looked between them, confused.

"What time?" Fang sighed.

"We tried it. We went through a twelve pack of beer in fifteen minutes, and then Vanille spent the rest of the night puking."

"Hey! You puked too!"

"Yes, I did. Once. Then I kept drinking. You didn't stop for hours." Vanille pouted, but did not refute the statement. Instead, she said:

"You guys hungry? I'll order a pizza." Fang nodded and Lightning mumbled,

"I could eat."

"Ok!" Vanille exclaimed as she headed back into the kitchen. Fang turned to her long-lost friend and asked,

"So, do you want to stop now?"

"Kinda."

"Ok." Fang then began to randomly push cards under the tab until the can cracked open. She then took the cards out from under the tab, threw them on the table with the rest of the deck, then opened the can the rest of the way before chugging it like a madwoman. Upon finishing it she crushed it and belched uncouthly. "What kind of movies do you like?"

"Um… I haven't watched a movie in… Well, it's been years."

"Alright… Do you want to watch one?"

"I suppose… Why not right?"

"Right. So… action? Comedy? Horror?"

"You choose." Lightning said, taking another drink of her beer. Fang nodded and leapt to her feet, swaying as she moved to peruse the shelves full of DVDs. She put a finger to her chin, squinting at the titles. She finally grabbed one and stumbled over to the TV, which she clicked on before kneeling to insert the DVD. "What did you pick?"

"Shaun of the Dead. It is hailed as a zombie movie parody, but it is really a zombie movie laced with humor." Fang replied, turning. Lightning couldn't help but chuckle.

"You sound like a reviewer." Fanged laughed as well.

"I probably could be."

Vanille returned to the living room with two beers and her phone in hand. She placed them in front of Lightning and Fang, whom had retaken her seat and was pressing the input button on the remote control. The DVD menu popped up, and Vanille sighed.

"This again? I keep telling you, this movie is rubbish."

"Shaddup." Fang replied, gesturing wildly with the remote. She hit play, and the movie began.

Lightning had never been a big movie fan, and was in no way prepared for the overly British movie. But, she did enjoy the part with the records, and found herself caring about the outcome of the characters' attempt to reach the overrated safety of the Winchester. A knock came at the door and Vanille answered it, returning with two large pizzas.

"I wasn't sure what you wanted, so I got a cheese and a meat lovers pizza... Fang, pick up the cards, please."

"On it." Fang said, grabbing them and clicking them on edge into an orderly pile. Vanille laid the pizzas on the table and went to the kitchen to get three paper towels and three paper plates.

"Dig in!" The redhead said, handing out the plates and paper towels. The three ate, and Fang continued to drink, and Lightning's eyes grew heavy. She had finished her beer just after she finished eating, but didn't open the one Vanille had brought her. Within moments, Lightning bowed her head and slipped off to sleep. Moments after that, Fang felt a weight on her shoulder. She turned to see Lightning's head on her shoulder. Vanille left the room after eating, for she thought thet Shaun of the Dead was a dumb movie. Fang watched the whole movie, texting Vanille when she needed a new beer. The first time, Vanille had scoffed and returned to tell Fang off, but seeing the sleeping woman on her shoulder pacified her. At the end of the movie, Fang laid Lightning down and laid a blanket upon her.

"See you tomorrow, Claire." Fang whispered, then put the pizza in the fridge and took five more beers to her room and closed the door.


End file.
